🔗 Share this article

"Locals dub this place an enigmatic zone of Transylvania," explains an experienced guide, the air from his lungs forming wisps of condensation in the chilly night air. "So many people have gone missing here, some say there's a gateway to another dimension." The guide is leading a traveler on a night walk through commonly known as the globe's spookiest forest: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of old-growth native woodland on the fringes of the Transylvanian city of Cluj-Napoca.

Centuries of Mystery

Reports of bizarre occurrences here extend back hundreds of years – the forest is titled for a area shepherd who is believed to have disappeared in the far-off times, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu achieved international attention in 1968, when an army specialist known as Emil Barnea photographed what he reported as a UFO hovering above a oval meadow in the centre of the forest.

Numerous entered this place and vanished without trace. But don't worry," he states, turning to his guest with a grin. "Our guided walks have a flawless completion rate."

In the time after, Hoia-Baciu has attracted yoga practitioners, spiritual healers, UFO researchers and paranormal investigators from around the globe, curious to experience the strange energies said to echo through the forest.

Modern Threats

It may be one of the world's premier hotspots for supernatural fans, the grove is at risk. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, described as the innovation center of Eastern Europe – are expanding, and real estate firms are advocating for permission to cut down the woods to erect housing complexes.

Barring a limited section containing area-specific oak varieties, the grove is lacking legal protection, but the guide hopes that the company he co-founded – the Hoia-Baciu Project – will help to change that, motivating the authorities to acknowledge the forest's importance as a tourist attraction.

Eerie Encounters

While branches and autumn leaves snap and crunch beneath their shoes, the guide tells some of the traditional stories and alleged supernatural events here.

• A well-known account recounts a little girl going missing during a group gathering, then to rematerialise after five years with complete amnesia of the events, without aging a day, her attire without the smallest trace of dirt.
• Regular stories describe smartphones and photography gear inexplicably shutting down on venturing inside.
• Feelings include full-blown dread to moments of euphoria.
• Various visitors report seeing bizarre skin irritations on their bodies, detecting ghostly voices through the trees, or experience palms pushing them, although sure they are alone.

Study Attempts

While many of the stories may be hard to prove, there is much before my eyes that is undeniably strange. Throughout the area are trees whose bases are bent and twisted into fantastical shapes.

Multiple explanations have been given to clarify the deformed trees: strong gales could have altered the growth, or typically increased electromagnetic fields in the earth cause their strange formation.

But research studies have found no satisfactory evidence.

The Famous Clearing

The guide's excursions enable visitors to participate in a small-scale research of their own. As we approach the opening in the trees where Barnea photographed his renowned UFO images, he passes the traveler an electromagnetic field detector which detects EMF readings.

"We're entering the most active section of the forest," he states. "Try to detect something."

The vegetation immediately cease as they step into a flawless round. The single plant life is the short grass beneath our feet; it's clear that it's naturally occurring, and appears that this strange clearing is organic, not the result of human hands.

The Blurred Line

The broader region is a area which stirs the imagination, where the border is blurred between truth and myth. In rural Romanian communities belief persists in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, shapeshifting bloodsuckers, who emerge from tombs to terrorise regional populations.

The famous author's well-known fictional vampire is forever associated with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building perched on a rocky outcrop in the mountain range – is heavily promoted as "the vampire's home".

But even myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the place beyond the forest" – appears tangible and comprehensible versus the haunted grove, which appear to be, for causes related to radiation, climatic or simply folkloric, a center for creative energy.

"Within this forest," the guide says, "the line between fact and fiction is remarkably blurred."